


Ghosts

by spacehopper



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Spectre Garrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-24 03:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12003840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: Shepard may be well on her way to becoming the first human Spectre, but that doesn't mean she has to do it alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



Shepard pulled the blankets more tightly around her shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut out the chiming of the terminal. It, and the universe, and the many and varied problems it contained could wait a few more hours. It rang again. She thought about continuing to ignore it; Nihlus would’ve simply come to the door if it were a true emergency, and at this point, she was willing to ignore pretty much anyone else, Council included. But as the far too cheerful ring sounded a third time, she decided enough was enough, staggering across the room to hit the button. Because she was Commander Shepard, and damned if she could ever take a break.

As the image appeared on the screen, she found her head suddenly clearer. 

“Anderson,” she said. She didn’t know Anderson as well as she’d like, having only been his XO for a few months before being accepted into Spectre training. But she’d come to respect him during that time, and he’d kept in touch off and on since then. Still, it was odd he was contacting her during a mission, when he shouldn’t have even known how to. Which meant this wasn’t a social call. 

“Shepard, how are you?” It was half polite gesture and half genuine interest. In a different time and place, she would’ve been happy to talk at length. But from the bags under his eyes, and the creases in his blue formal uniform, she didn’t think this was a social call.

“Tired,” she said, wincing at the creak as she sat down in the cheap plastic chair. The shabby Omega apartment had seen better days, but Nilhus had said the landlord was discreet, and that was what mattered right now. “What’s up?” Some COs she’d had would’ve seen that as insubordination, but Anderson was a man who cared about results, not politics. He’d appreciate the bluntness, and respond in kind.

“I’m calling to warn you about Saren.” 

If Shepard hadn’t already been waking up, that would’ve done it. “Saren? Saren Arturius, the longest serving turian Spectre? The one in charge of this mission?”

“I didn’t want to say anything before, because it would’ve looked like bias, and hell, maybe it was.” He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. She could just make out the Alliance logo on the wall behind him, which meant this likely was an official call. “I have some history with Saren, none of it good. But that’s not what’s important now. The Alliance found something, and you need to act, now.”

“Found what, sir?” Technically she no longer reported to him, wasn’t even truly in the chain of command at all, but she fell naturally in the old patterns. She might be a future Spectre now, but she’d always be Alliance.

“Saren is working with the Talons,” he said. Shepard opened her mouth, and Anderson held up a hand to stop her, continuing, “We don’t know why, and we don’t know how, so we can’t go to the Council with it. It’d just look like an attempt to cause trouble, bring up bad blood. We need proof.”

“And that’s where I come in,” Shepard said. She leaned back in her chair. She and Nihlus had been on Omega for unrelated reasons when Saren had shown up with his own protege, another turian named Garrus. He’d said that it was urgent they retrieve a rare Prothean artifact the Talons had stolen before they realized its value. They’d been planning on attacking their base in the Kima Distract just a few hours from now, so time was tight. Maybe too tight. But Shepard had always been one for pulling victory out of desperate situations. It’s how she’d ended up here in the first place.

“What about Nihlus?” she asked. “And Garrus Vakarian?” She was planning on going alone regardless, but it was better to know now if the other turians would be potential allies or enemies, should things go south. 

“Our intelligence doesn’t point to Nihlus being involved,” Anderson said. She hadn’t thought it would. The whole thing would be very out of character for Nihlus, who she’d come to know well over their months working together. He could be more ruthless than she liked, but he was loyal to the Council, and unlike Saren, bore no ill-will towards humanity. “As for Vakarian,” Anderson continued, “there was nothing on him, but as he’s Saren’s trainee. Best to assume he’s involved until proven otherwise.”

Shepard frowned, but nodded acknowledgment. She’d come to like Garrus in the week they’d worked together. He was smart, competent, and dedicated to the job. She could tell that he really believed in what he was doing, that he thought that as a Spectre, he could help make the galaxy a better place. It was the same reason she was here, and her gut said he wasn’t involved. But Anderson was right. While she thought Garrus was innocent, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“I’ll go alone,” she said. “You have any more intel for me?

“A map of the base,” Anderson said. “The analysts have highlighted some important points. Defenses, cameras. Terminals where you might be able to shut things down. And the location of the server room. You should head there, it’s your best chance to find the data we’re looking for.”

“Got a way for me to get into their servers? I’m not much of a hacker.” She had some basic training, sure, but it’d never been her forte, not with all the time spent honing her biotics.

“I’ll upload everything we’ve got with the map. If you can’t decrypt it, just grab the data, and we’ll hope someone else can make something of it.”

“Got it,” Shepard said. “

“Try not to break anything,” Anderson said. She chuckled. Her style could be somewhat flashy. And loud. 

“I’ll do my best, sir,” she said. The plans had come through, and she brought them up on her omni-tool, her mind already swirling with ideas, ways to get in and out fast and clean.

“And be careful.”

*

It was an old military truism, that even the best laid plans never survived first contact. It was almost inevitable that just as Shepard thought she’d made it clear of their makeshift base with no one the wiser, she ran, quite literally, into Garrus Vakarian. She mentally kicked herself as he apologized. She’d been paying so much attention to what was in their base, and making sure she didn’t alert anyone there, she had somehow failed to consider that someone might be outside it. 

“Shepard,” he said. “Can’t sleep?” 

She’d gotten better at reading turians since she’d begun training with Nihlus, and from his tone of voice, she thought it was a genuine question, with some underlying sympathy, not the sort of suspicion she’d expect if he’d been in on it. And while she wasn’t quite as adept at reading turian faces as human ones, she thought he looked tired, too. Empathy then, not sympathy. 

One thing her commanding officers had always highlighted was that she was an excellent judge of character. It was part of what made her such an effective leader, why she’d risen so quickly through the ranks even before Akuze. Garrus Vakarian was not aware of Saren’s plan. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, a desire for justice beyond the norm, and perhaps most importantly for this mission, was a sniper who could provide long range cover and had far greater technical knowledge than she did.

“I need your help,” she said, leaning in close, hand resting on his shoulder. It might look strange to a passerby, but she wouldn’t be the first human to be more intimate than average with a turian, especially on Omega. And maybe if Saren saw, he’d be so disgusted he’d ignore them. She could hope, at least.

“I, uh.” Garrus stumbled over his words, a sudden departure for the almost overconfident attitude he’d had during the short time she’d known him. “I respect you greatly, Commander, but—”

There wasn’t time to explain, and if anything, his reaction would help sell the whole thing. She tightened her grip on his shoulder, hitting the button to open the door and steering him into the dimly lit corridor outside. Luckily he didn’t resist. She could have moved him bodily if she’d used her biotics, but that would have been far flashier than she wanted. Exactly the sort of flashy Anderson had cautioned against. Not that, in including Garrus, she was exactly following her orders to the letter anyway.

But Spectres weren’t chosen for their obedience. They were chosen to get the job done. And that was damn well what Shepard planned to do, no matter how far she had to deviate from the plan. If the Alliance didn’t trust her judgment, they shouldn’t have asked for her help in the first place. She spotted a small room off to one side, the panel next to it sparking ominously, door jammed half open. She let go of Garrus to examine it. From the readings she was getting from her visor, it was empty. It’d do. She wrapped her hands around it, feeling the energy gathering in her fingers, the shift in mass around them. Then she pulled, forcing the door open with a burst of biotic energy.

“Impressive,” Garrus said.

She felt her lips twitch in response. “Come on in.”

The emergency lighting had flickered on automatically they’d crossed the threshold, giving everything a garish red hue, something she hoped wouldn’t prove prophetic. As she watched Garrus in the dim light, she noticed he seemed more relaxed than before, moving to the back of the room to lean against the wall. 

“Usually people get a little twitchy, when I do something like that,” she said. “Or they’re asari, and not impressed.”

“Not many biotics in the turian military,” he said. “It’s damn useful, though.”

“That it is,” she said. “But I didn’t drag you here just to show off my biotics.”

She keyed up the base plans on her omni-tool, and Garrus moved towards her, eying them with curiosity. 

“Just before I ran into you, I received a report from Alliance intelligence.” She left the specifics of who gave her the information out, in case Saren had mentioned Anderson to Garrus. She didn’t know the details, though she made a mental note to ask later, but it sounded like it was enough of a history that the fact the information came from Anderson might hurt her case. “They believe Saren may be working with the Talons.”

To her surprise, rather than arguing, Garrus’s shoulders slumped, and he raised a hand to scratch at his fringe. He stared at the empty corridor beyond her for a moment, mandibles moving in a way that she thought indicated he was struggling with what to say. 

“I thought he was up to something,” he said. “He was furious when he found out you were here. At first I thought it was just that he hates humans, but he wasn’t happy about Nihlus either, and he trained Nihlus. But this is important, so he should welcome extra help. So why wouldn’t he? Unless…”

“Unless he has something to hide,” Shepard finished. “Quite the assessment there.”

“I almost joined C-Sec,” Garrus said, with an expression she thought would be a rueful smile on a human. “It’s what my father wanted. I guess you could say I learned it from him.” 

“And they don’t let idiots into the Spectres,” Shepard said. 

“Oh, I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Garrus said. “Since I’m pretty sure you’re about to propose we break into the base, and I’m going to agree.”

Shepard laughed. “I said they don’t let in idiots. I think recklessness is a prerequisite.”

“You have a plan?” he said, nodding at what was outlined on her omni-tool display.

“Something like that,” she said. “I know where we need to get, and I know some of the obstacles in our way.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s something like a plan,” he said. “Give me a sec?”

She transferred the plans to him, and waited as he studied them dutifully. Another thing Alliance brass might not approve of, but she wasn’t about to let Garrus go in blind. 

“Why did you tell me?” Garrus said, as he switched off the display. “You had no reason to believe you could trust me.”

“I’m a decent judge of people,” Shepard said. “And I had a good feeling about you.”

“Also,” she added, “I’m crap at stealth.”

“You charge in, I clean up behind you?” he said.

“Pretty much.”

“Sounds like we’ll make a good team.”

Shepard found herself smiling, despite the circumstances. She was pretty damn sure they would.

*

Against all odds, they made it into the Talons’ base without a hitch, encountering only a few easily dispatched guards. Far too easily, and from the way Garrus surveyed the rooms as they passed through them, doors opening and closing smoothly behind them, she thought he agreed. She halted before the entrance to the server room, where they’d hopefully find the evidence they needed. It was a fainter hope than she’d like, but the Talons had been careless enough in the first place, to let the Alliance get the information they had, so there was a better than average chance they’d been equally cavalier here. 

She entered first, shotgun at the ready, while Garrus kept an eye on the hallway. The plans had indicated it was a compact space, and she was far better suited to close quarters combat that he was. As the automated lighting flickered on, she braced herself for an alarm. But as the seconds passed, no alarm sounded and no guards appeared. She relaxed. It seemed whatever Garrus had done when they’d first entered the base was holding up. The alarm system was old turian military tech that he’d worked with before. He’d said there were a number of ways the Talons might have gotten it. A poorly guarded base, or an old ship that hadn’t been properly stripped. But she could tell he didn’t believe it was coincidence, and she didn’t either.

As she gave the all clear and Garrus came into the room, she was thankful again that she’d gone with her gut and brought him along. He’d been invaluable so far, and while she’d loaded every decryption program Anderson had sent and a few more besides onto her omni-tool, if the file encryption also proved to be turian, Garrus would be able to crack it far faster than she. As he made his way to a computer terminal, she stood facing the reinforced metal door. There was only the one entrance, which made defending it easier, but it also meant that if anyone came through, she’d have to take them out fast, or they’d be trapped. 

It required her full attention, but despite that, she couldn’t help but glance over to where Garrus was working every few minutes. While they’d technically been working together for the past week, most of the legwork had been done in pairs, her with Nihlus, him with Saren. Their interactions had been pleasant, but distant. But for this mission, they’d come together like they’d done it hundreds of times before, a well-oiled machine, perfectly in sync.

“I have it,” Garrus said, pulling a small data storage drive from the computer. 

“And?” Shepard asked. She knew they should probably just take the files and go, rather than linger here. But in addition to her own desire to know the truth, if they left with the wrong information, it would be a catastrophic failure. Saren would keep his Spectre status and whatever secrets he was hiding, and they’d lose the element of surprise. And there was still the chance he was innocent, still the chance the Alliance’s intelligence was wrong. Shepard had no interest in potentially condemning an innocent man.

“It’s not as conclusive as I’d like,” Garrus said. “At least not in the files I was able to decrypt. Saren definitely has some connection to the Talons, and he contacted them about the artifact, but that could easily be part of the mission.” He hesitated. “Are you sure the reports were correct?”

“No,” she said. “That’s why we needed proof. You’re certain there’s nothing else?”

“Not certain, no, but I don’t have time to go through the rest of the data here. A lot of it is just times and dates, meaningless without context.” 

“Damn it.” She pursed her lips, thinking hard. While it was quiet for now, they shouldn’t stay. If there really was no proof, Saren couldn’t have any knowledge of what they’d done. She’d planned on transmitting the information to the Alliance, but this wasn’t good enough. They couldn’t prove Saren was a traitor, so they’d be back where they started, just vague suspicions and politically motivated accusations. What they needed, more than anything, was time.

“We need to get out of here,” she said, holstering her gun. 

“But what if there’s something else? Maybe in another part of the base. We can’t abandon it now.” He was insistent. She knew her instincts were right, in trusting him. But it’d been far too simple to convince him. 

“Why did you believe me?” she said.

“I told you,” Garrus said. He sounded calm now, friendly even, as he tucked the data drive into a compartment in his armor. “I knew something was up with Saren.”

“There’s more though, isn’t there.”

Garrus hesitated, resting one hand on the terminal, as if it held the answer to her question, before turning to face her.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s, well. When I first decided to become a Spectre, I was given a warning. That they did anything to get the job done. I thought at the time it was a good thing. Justice without the red tape. But some of the things I’ve seen Saren do—” He shook his head. “It’s not really a good time for this, is it?”

“No,” Shepard said. “It isn’t. But I’d like to hear more, later.”

“How about over a drink? Assuming we don’t suffer a horrible death in the next hour or so.” 

“It’s a deal,” she said. “Let’s go.”

*

More empty corridors, more automated lights, and still no Talons, no Saren, no Nihlus. Nothing. Her shoulders ached from the tension, from waiting for something, anything to happen. She thought she’d known what she was getting into, when she joined the Spectres. A vanguard for humanity, serving the Council, helping the people she could never have helped as a regular Alliance marine. This was something else. Like Akuze before the attack. It felt wrong. 

“You know, if I had to get myself killed trying to take down a legendary Spectre, I’m glad it was with you,” Garrus said.

“You’re really laying on the compliments tonight,” she said. “And we’ve only just met.”

“No, I mean, your skills,” he said, clearly flustered. “They’re very impressive.”

“You said that already,” she said. 

“I read your file,” he said. “I was curious. First human Spectre candidate, that’s something special. And you are.”

“I’m special?” she said. “What would Saren think, if he could hear you?”

“We’re not all like him,” Garrus said. “He’s bitter. He can’t let it go.”

“The First Contact War,” Shepard said. “A lot of humans can’t either.”

“I don’t remember a galaxy without humanity,” Garrus said. “I was born that year, the year of the Relay 314 Incident. And you’re the kind of person the galaxy needs. Someone who’s willing to do what’s necessary, no matter what.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” she said, stopping for a moment, looking up on down the corridor at the intersection they’d reached. “There are reasons for rules. I thought you knew that, with what you saw with Saren.”

“I—” He stopped, turning back to face her. “You’re right, of course. I know that. I just meant that what you did tonight, not a lot of people would have.”

“I’m still going to report my findings though, once I have them, to the Council. There are extenuating circumstances, that require secrecy, but even if the Council doesn’t know, I’m here on behalf of the Alliance as well.”

“I know that, I just.” He shook his head. “We probably shouldn’t just stand here arguing, should we?”

“No, it probably isn’t the best plan.” She gestured down the corridor in front of him. “Onwards?”

“I’d love to,” he said. She checked the other two passages again, before turning to follow him. Too easy. Too damn easy…

“Wait!” she shouted, already too late to stop the proximity mine’s countdown. There was no way Garrus could move quickly enough to get out of the blast area. She charged, slamming into him far faster than any species could without the use of biotics. In the split second after she hit, time seemed to stop. She could see the countdown reach zero out of the corner of her eye. She threw up a barrier just as the explosion hit, shrapnel glancing harmlessly off the mass effect field that now surrounded them. She dropped it with a huff, rolling off Garrus and collapsing next to him. 

“I knew it was too easy,” Garrus said, echoing her thoughts as he climbed to his feet. He raised a hand to fiddle with his visor. “You knocked out my shields.”

“I figured it was better than ending up a blue smear on the wall,” she said.

They were both braced for further combat, an alarm, an attack, something. But it remained as eerily silent as before the blast.

“I don’t like it,” Garrus said. 

“I don’t like any of this,” Shepard said. “But if Saren’s dirty, we have to stop him.” 

“You think they’ll make us Spectres after this?” Garrus asked, mandibles twitching. 

“They better,” she said, managing a chuckle. 

When the alarm began to blare moments later, it was almost a relief. She quickly checked her shotgun and exchanged a look with Garrus before turning towards the base entrance. Perfect timing. She was just about ready for another charge.

“But first, we have to survive this fight,” Shepard said. 

“I’ve got your six,” Garrus said. 

She was in over her head, trusting her back to someone she barely knew. But despite it all, she kept her eyes front and smiled.

She had a good feeling about this.

*

Shepard was not, as a rule, overconfident. What recklessness she engaged in tended to be calculated, not always planned but controlled. Dangerous, but not thoughtless.

Charging into the fight without first assessing the enemy forces and realizing an unfortunately powerful asari was among them, she thought as she was slammed by a biotic shockwave into a nearby wall, was something she’d be paying for in the morning. If she were lucky.

As she staggered to her feet, she heard Garrus shout a warning over the comms, and she charged at a random enemy without even thinking. She needed to put some distance between them, to give herself time to regroup, time to think.

And for good or ill, Saren and Nihlus had now showed up, which meant they’d also need to come up with a reason as to why they’d already been here, hours before the plan was set to take place. Saren was not an enemy to take head on. He was cunning, with decades of experience she lacked, and the respect and trust of the Council. They needed time to go through the data, time to plan, and to have that, Saren couldn’t suspect anything.

She quickly dispatched the female turian she’d slammed into before dashing over to Garrus and ducking back into cover.

“How’s it look?” 

“Bad,” he said, reloading his rifle before peaking out to scan the area in front of them. “We’re outnumbered.”

“I’m less worried about the mercenaries than how the hell we’re going to explain ourselves.”

“Saren appreciates initiative,” he said, sounding oddly grim. “I'll take care of it.”

“I’ll trust you with that,” she said. “You know him better than I do.”

“You’re big on that, aren’t you,” he said. “Trust. Funny, considering why we’re here.” 

“I believe in giving people a chance. Even Saren, if it turns out he really is innocent. But first we have to make it through the fight.” Even with Saren and Nihlus, it wasn’t ideal. 

He scanned the battlefield. “Only a few dozen mercs,” he said dryly. 

“I’ve had worse,” she said. “I survived a thresher maw on foot.”

“Impressive,” he said. 

She rolled her eyes, and before he could say anything else, charged back onto the field. She took down another pair of turians, and was turning back towards Garrus when her shotgun beeped, the heat sink locking. Two mercenaries, a turian and an asari, were heading rapidly towards her.

“Crap,” she said. She used her biotics to shove the turian away, and slammed her fist into the asari’s face with a sickening crunch before charging to yet another enemy. Behind her, she heard a cry of pain, then silence, as Garrus dispatched the two she’d disabled. They made a good team. Damn good. 

“Shepard,” Garrus said. He was staring down his sights at a hulking krogan making a beeline for Nihlus, who hadn’t seemed to noticce. “I can’t get a clear shot.”

But she could, if she charged. It’d be dangerous, but she might just have a chance as long as she took down the krogan fast. But as she prepared to charge, she glanced back at Garrus to see an asari had come up behind him. 

“I have it, Shepard,” Garrus said, eyes trained on the krogan, oblivious to the asari behind him.

“Garrus,” she said. “Look—” 

It was no use, though. He’d never be able to react in time. Shepard charged at the asari instead, just before her omni-blade would have pierced Garrus’s neck. It wasn’t enough to take her out. Immediately after she hit, she slammed her fist into the ground, her barrier exploding with the force of a grenade, slamming the asari against a nearby well. There was a sickening crunch as her head whacked against it and she crumpled to the ground, purple blood pooling around her.

Garrus was watching her.

“Guess I really owe you that drink now,” he said.

“Damn right you do.”

*

Hours later, Shepard blinked owlishly up an asari shaking her ass, then took another swig of her drink. Afterlife really was everything they said. She was sure she’d have appreciated it, if she hadn’t had a collective four hours of sleep over the last two days. 

She knocked back the rest of her drink, gesturing to the bartender for another.

“Your friend trying to kill herself?” the bartender, an older asari, asked. 

“Mere alcohol,” Garrus said, holding up his own drink and swaying slightly, “cannot possibly.”

The music thudded, the lights flashed lurid violet, and Shepard thought vaguely that she was happy, despite the setbacks of the night.

“We,” she said, leaning towards Garrus and almost overbalancing onto him, “make a great team.”

“That we do, Commander. That we do.”


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard was staring down at her omni-tool and wondering where the hell Garrus was. For the first fifteen minutes, she’d been content to wait, toying with the ramen she’d bought from the small Zakera Ward cafe purporting to sell earth delicacies. But as fifteen minutes had turned into thirty, she’d turned to her omni-tool to check the message.

_Zakera Ward. Level 27. 1100._

Meeting Garrus wasn’t strange. They’d gone out, had drinks, ate a few times, and even busted the odd lawbreaker in the months that had passed since they’d returned from Omega. Garrus had said he’d grown up on Palaven, but despite that, he knew the Citadel well, far better than Shepard, who’d rarely had cause to visit in her time with the Alliance, and never before that. It’d been nice, getting to know it better. If this whole Spectre thing didn’t blow up in her face, she’d probably be spending a lot more time here, after all. And she’d found an easy camaraderie with Garrus, a shared humor and a friendly sense of competition. 

And then there was the other reason they’d kept in touch, the reason she was almost certain he wanted to meet tonight, and the why she was worried he was late. They’d each been going through the data they’d pulled from Omega as best they could, hoping to find something, anything they could use as proof against Saren. So far, there’d been nothing. Just more vague hints, all conjecture and no fact. 

“Shepard.”

She looked up from her omni-tool to see Garrus standing in front of her. He looked nervous, but as she ran her eyes down his body, she didn’t notice any injuries, no dents in his armor. 

“You’re late,” she said, keeping her voice light, like this was one of their regular social meetings.

His mandibles twitched at that. 

“Sorry, got a little held up. A call that took longer than I expected.” 

“Something you want to tell me?” Shepard said.

“Yeah, you know.” Garrus glanced around them, focusing briefly on something behind Shepard before meeting her eyes again. “Why don’t we go back to my place?”

“Sure, I’d love to see it,” she said. A conversation between friends, then. If Garrus had noticed someone, someone he didn’t want to overhear them, better to have them think that this was just pure coincidence. “It far?”

“No, not too bad,” he said, nodding to a nearby taxi. “Just a few levels down.”

“Ah, so that’s why you know the area so well.” 

He raised a hand to his visor, adjusting a setting of some sort. Shepard’s hands itched to check her gun, but that’d give them away for sure. And the last thing she wanted to do was risk starting a fire fight in the crowded market. As if proving her point, an asari and a turian walked past, little girl clutching their hands. 

“What’s that, momma?” the girl said, looking up at the turian.

“A human, sweetie,” the turian woman replied. “It’s not polite to stare.”

Shepard smiled at the girl and waved, and got a smile in response.

“Weird!” the girl said, as her parents gently tugged her away. Definitely for the best. She turned back to where Garrus was watching her.

“Always making friends, aren’t you,” he said. 

“It’s part of my patented Commander Shepard charm.” She very deliberately did not look behind her. “Time to go?”

“Got it in one,” he said. 

They made their way to the taxi, moving normally and chatting about inconsequential things. She was just finishing a story about something ridiculous the usually dignified Nihlus had done when they reached their destination. Garrus slid into the driver’s seat, one hand going to his pistol as soon as the door blocked the view from any bystanders. Shepard did the same. He started the taxi and punched the address for his apartment, letting the autopilot take over, just like he would’ve if this were the casual visit they were pretending it was. Outside the view of any likely surveillance, she could see his stress more clearly, the tenseness in his fingers wrapped around the wheel, poised to take control at a moment’s notice. She had questions, but kept silent for now. They may be away, but distracting him could be a fatal mistake, if it did come to a chase. And as much as he complained about her driving, she didn’t think his was much better.

After an anxious handful of minutes, they arrived in a quiet residential area. The apartments here were small, modest, about what she’d expect for someone like Garrus. He’d relaxed almost immediately after they’d landed, and sighed as the door to his apartment sealed behind them.

“We should be safe here,” he said. He gestured at a couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in the small room. “You want anything to drink?”

“You have anything I can drink?” she asked. “Not that it matters. Don’t think drinking now is a good idea anyway.”

“Ha, yeah, you’re right about that,” he said. “Though I did pick up some sort of human drink called whiskey the other day.”

“Have to be a rain check,” she said, sitting down on the couch with a huff. “What’d you find?” 

“I think I might have a way to get the evidence we need.” 

“But?”

“It’s—” Garrus was fiddling with his omni-tool, looking at the data or just reluctant to talk. Maybe both. “—complicated.”

He sighed, sitting down on the couch next to Shepard. “What I found, it’s not really more than we already had. Just time, dates, locations. A meeting.”

Shepard waiting for him to continue.

“But this meeting hasn’t happened yet. And it’s here on the Citadel, in Bachjret Ward.”

“So we go to the meeting,” Shepard said. “What’s the catch?”

“I did some digging. That’s why I was late. This group is already under investigation by C-Sec.”

“That complicates things. Normally I’d say we should just work with them, but we can’t alert Saren.”

“Exactly,” Garrus said. “Except there might be a way.”

She frowned. Garrus had changed positions three times since he sat down. He was nervous, but she knew now that this wasn’t the kind of situation that made him nervous. He was a bit of an adrenaline junky, something she’d cop to as well. Like her, if anything he tended to be calmer, clearer in situations like this. No, Garrus only got nervous when things were personal. 

“You have an in?” She had her suspicions, based on an offhand comment Garrus had made months ago. 

“Something like that,” Garrus said. He tapped at his omni-tool, bringing up a case files Shepard was fairly certain he shouldn’t have. 

Shepard scanned the report, eyes stopping on the name of the lead detective on the case. “Castis Vakarian.”

“My father,” Garrus said.

*

Shepard stayed at Garrus’s apartment, waiting for his father to arrive. They’d agreed that it made the most sense to meet Castis here, as it’d cause the least suspicion. Like Shepard and Garrus’s own meeting, a father coming to visit his son would hopefully appear personal, and unrelated to their respective jobs. She could tell Garrus was reluctant to pursue the entire plan, and that there was likely some sort of issue with him and his father, but now was definitely not the time to pry. Later, when this was all over, she’d ask him why he was so hesitant to reach out to his own father for help on what could be the key to bringing Saren down. 

Garrus clearly understood the importance of using his connection to Castis. But from the way he alternated pacing the room, checking his omni-tool, and calibrating the aim on his sniper rifle, she could tell it wasn’t easy for him. She almost spoke more than once, hoping to ease the tension. But just as she was searching for some sort of neutral topic, a faint chime came from the terminal by the door.

Setting down the sniper rifle, which had to be in beyond prime condition at this point, Garrus headed to the door, checking the security camera before opening it. Shepard thought she could see a resemblance to Garrus in the turian that was now crossing the threshold, not so much in how they looked, but in the way they held themselves. Proud. Stubborn. She briefly thought of her own father, and her mother, wondering if Garrus would have seen any similarities there. But she pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time to get maudlin.

Castis Vakarian scanned the room with a keen eye, and Shepard was vividly reminded of the first time she’d seen a turian, shortly after the attack on Mindoir. The human marine who’d been with her had told her that she’d always thought they looked resembled birds of prey. Shepard could see it now, in the way Castis assessed the room. He considered Garrus for a moment, before turning to Shepard.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said.

She stood, crossing the room to hold out her hand, which he took. A human greeting, automatic, but if he was C-Sec, he was familiar with humans. 

“Commander Shepard,” she said, “of the Alliance.”

“The human Spectre candidate,” he said. He sounded surprised. Shepard was surprised herself. If he and Garrus had been on any sort of speaking terms, she’d have assumed he’d have told his father about her. Either he hadn’t told him, or as seemed increasingly likely, they weren’t on any sort of speaking terms. 

“Yes,” she said. “I’m training under Nihlus Kryik. I met Garrus on Omega, when we worked together there to recover a Prothean artifact.”

“Ah,” Castis said. “With Saren Arterius as well, I presume?” A faint disgust tinged his voice. So he wasn’t a fan of Saren’s either. That was promising. And may also help explain the tension between Garrus and Castis. 

“Yes,” Shepard said.

“That’s why we need your help,” Garrus said, cutting in. “We think Saren’s dirty. And we think we know how to get proof.”

Castis eyed Garrus speculatively. “This is about the slavers, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Garrus said. “We have information from Omega that connects them to Saren.”

Castis closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“And so you’ll use the authority of the Spectres to go outside the law, and take over the case,” he said.

“You’re still mad about that?” Garrus said. “It was years ago.”

“I’ve never approved of the Spectres, you know that. You could have joined C-Sec—”

“I can do more good as a Spectre than I ever could with C-Sec.”

“Like Saren?” Castis said.

“You know it’s not the same thing. Don’t give me that crap.”

This was proving slightly more illuminating than Shepard had intended. As interesting as this window into Vakarian family drama was, though, they had a rogue Spectre to take down, and it’d never happen if this argument continued.

“Regardless of what you think of the Spectres, sir, we do need your help.” The both looked at her abruptly, as if they’d forgotten she was even there. She put on what she hoped was an at least somewhat placating smile. “I understand your concerns, and we don’t want to interfere with your investigation. We just need your help in retrieving the necessary evidence. Normally we’d be happy to follow the proper protocols, but in this case, we can’t risk alerting Saren.”

“You’d be willing to follow protocol?” Castis sounded skeptical, and Shepard couldn’t fault him. She respected Nihlus, but she hadn’t always approved of his willingness to play fast and loose with the rules, in a way she understood was fairly typical for a Spectre.

“Yes, sir,” Shepard said. “And after this is concluded, I’ll be happy to turn over any relevant information we find to you.”

Castis looked at Garrus, who remained silent. Finally, he sighed, saying, “Whatever issues I have with the Spectres, I trust my son.” Garrus stiffened at this comment. “And if he trusts you, so do I. I won’t interfere. But I expect you will do no more than is necessary to complete your own mission.”

“Of course, sir,” Shepard said.

“We’ll be defining necessary though,” Garrus said. Shepard shot him a look, but that was apparently all he wanted to say. She really hoped this didn’t cause any further issues with the mission.

Castis turned to leave, but hesitated.

“Be careful,” he said.

Shepard didn’t think it was directed at her.

*

“You ready for this?” Shepard said. The warehouse the exchange was supposed to take place in was poorly lit, with canisters strewn around. She couldn’t make out what they were for, but she hoped whatever it was, it wasn’t explosive, or otherwise likely to lead to their untimely death.

“I don’t like it,” Garrus sad. He had his sniper rifle out, trained on the floor below. They’d argued about how they wanted to do this. Garrus had originally wanted to go with her into the maze of barrels and crates, insisting it was dangerous for her to go alone. She’d shot that down hard. It was dangerous, sure, but Garrus was far backup out here in the observation room above, where he’d be able to find and take shots, and report anything strange to her. One of them had to stay, and as she’d pointed out, shotguns weren’t the best long-range weapons. He’d grudgingly agreed in the end, but was very clearly still unhappy about the prospect. 

“I’d like to say it’ll be fine, but let’s be realistic. Something will probably explode,” Shepard said.

“Yeah, and you’ll be the one to blow it up,” he said, laughing like she’d hoped. She gave a tiny salute, and headed down to the warehouse floor.

Even as used to close quarters combat as she was, this was far from ideal, especially since they had no idea what they were looking for. They’d gotten here hours before the meeting was supposed to take place in hopes they’d find something beforehand, and then also could wait and gather the evidence the meeting itself would hopefully provide. The time would give Shepard the opportunity to get a good idea of the layout of the warehouse too, and find a good spot to hunker down and wait.

“Damn it,” Garrus said over the comms. “They’re here.”

“What?” Shepard said. “Crap. Where are they?”

“Entrance at the far side of the room, across from me. They’re heading towards you. Is there cover?” A hint of worry crept into his voice.

No, there was not any damn cover. She’d been poking around the area they likely intended to use for the meeting, the most exposed part of the entire warehouse. But there was no time to worry about how good the cover was. She quickly crawled under the desk, the nearest thing that offered any semblance of a hiding place. It was a good thing she’d been able to talk Garrus out of coming down here. It was a tight fit for her in her armor, and for Garrus it would’ve been impossible. Now she just had to hope no one wanted to sit at the desk. 

And if they did, well. It’d be the perfect time to make something explode. She wouldn’t want to disappoint Garrus, after all. 

“Do you have it?” A voice that was unmistakably Saren’s said. Her omni-tool had already been recording, just in case. This could be it, if they were very, very lucky. 

“Do you have the credits? And the passes?” Shepard stiffened at that. So not only was Saren working with slavers, he was actively helping them. Her hands clenched around her gun. What could be worth that? Or maybe Saren just didn’t care. Especially if the slaves were, as she now suspected, human.

“I have what you wanted, but I need to see it first,” Saren said. 

“Don’t know why you wanted the thing.” She heard movement, grunts. They were moving something heavy. “It may be Prothean, but it’s useless. Junk. Only thing it’d be good for is gathering dust in some museum.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Saren said. “Show it to me.”

She heard the hiss of the crate door sliding open. Even this wasn’t going to be enough. It was more of the same, something Saren could play off as a way to catch the slavers, or track them to their base. The Council would never believe he was dirty, not from this. 

They needed something more, and she didn’t have the faintest idea how to get it.

Then a shot rang out.

Shepard barely restrained herself from leaping from cover. Had Castis changed his mind, and come anyway? Or was it a rival, some competitor of these slavers, spoiling the deal?

Whatever it was, she had to stay put, as much as it pained her. She was better equipped than most to deal with being surrounded, but she got the feeling the odds were decidedly against her in this case, with not just the slavers but Saren to deal with. So she waited, and listened.

“Garrus,” Saren said. He sounded almost amused, but with anger underlying his voice. “What are you doing here?”

No. He couldn’t have. He could not be that fucking reckless.

“I knew you were up to something,” Garrus, the absolute idiot, said. “But I didn’t realize you’d stooped as low as slaving.”

“Is that what you think this is?” Saren said. “Put down the gun, Garrus. We can talk. But not here. I need to conclude my business with these traders.”

Garrus was bluffing, Shepard knew he was bluffing, _Saren_ knew he was bluffing. But not why. Did Garrus think he could bait Saren into acting? 

Could he?

“Slavers,” Garrus said. “Might as well call them what they are. And there’s no point in lying, I’ve seen the files.”

“Ah, I did worry. I’d knew you’d looked into this, after that raid, and your father has been investigating them as well, hasn’t he?” Saren said.

Interesting. He’d known about the C-Sec investigation, but not that they were aware of this specific meeting. But Castis hadn’t seem surprised. So perhaps he’d already suspected something more was at work, even before they’d called him, to leave it out of the file, a file Saren would have been able to access. 

“He has,” Garrus said. His voice was tight, real anger behind it. “And he told me just which slavers they are.”

“It’s Shepard, isn’t it,” Saren said. He sounded disgusted. “You’ve become…fond of her, haven’t you.”

“What if I have?” Garrus said. “It doesn’t matter. They need to be brought to justice.”

“And what makes you think that isn’t exactly what I’m doing?” Saren said.

Apparently, the slavers had enough. “Hey, we had a deal here—”

“Silence,” Saren hissed. 

Shepard had to say, she was impressed. It might not be the victory they’d hoped for, but Garrus had backed Saren into a corner. He’d be forced to either reveal himself, or more likely, betray his contacts to maintain his cover. It wasn’t ideal. He now knew they were looking into him, which would make any further efforts all the more difficult. But it was something. And the conversation, Saren’s hesitation, might not be enough to convince the Council, but Shepard thought it just might convince Nihlus. 

“Garrus, I apologize,” Saren said, smoothly. Too smoothly. Had he found a way out? “But the secrecy was necessary, with such a delicate situation. These men have agreed to be witnesses against their compatriots, to help track them down and bring them to justice. It’s a dirty business, I know, allowing clemency to slavers. But sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

Garrus didn’t say anything. Shepard imagined he must be thinking as furiously as she was, hunting for a way to make this work. They knew he was lying, but what he’d just said was all too plausible. They needed a way to force his hand. Something he hated, something that would cause him to stop thinking, to finally lose his cool. She was glad, at that moment, that Garrus hadn’t been able to hear her call him reckless before. Otherwise she’d never have heard the end of it. 

Time to make something explode.

*

As the pieces of the desk flew out in a corona around her, she had to admit, she felt a brief swelling of satisfaction. Shepard might like to urge caution, but she’d never been great at just sitting and waiting. Now the action began.

“They have to face justice for their crimes,” she said. “For Mindoir, and for the other colonies they’ve attacked. And the people they’ve killed, or taken.”

From the expression of the leader’s face, she knew she’d guessed right. Maybe these weren’t the exact slavers who’d killed her parents and destroyed her home, all those years ago, but they were definitely from the same group. It gave her the perfect opening to be righteously angry, in a way few would blame her for later. And hopefully figure out a way to jog a similar reaction out of Saren. 

“You,” Saren said.

“What, you think I’d let Garrus come alone?” she said.

“Let?” Saren said. “Does he now need permission to act? Have humans truly become so powerful, that he is your servant?” He paused, clearly savoring what he was about to say. “Your slave?”

Shepard almost snorted. He was really was laying it on thick, wasn’t he. Letting his own hatred of humans blind him. 

“Garrus is my friend,” she said. She thought back over what Saren had said to Garrus before. “I care about him.”

The sound Saren made was almost a growl. “Care. Isn’t that what all you humans pretend, even as you consume and destroy everything around you? These men were heroes, for destroying Mindoir, and other human colonies like it.”

Shepard’s hand clenched around her shotgun in real anger. “We rebuilt.”

“They’ll keep rebuilding,” Garrus said. Shepard looked up to where he was stationed in the observation area above the warehouse. “And the galaxy is better for it.”

“They’ve brainwashed you,” Saren said. “Seduced you.”

“The war is over,” Garrus said. “It’s been over for decades. Fighting it won’t bring your brother back.”

So it was personal. Shepard had thought as much. 

“But at least I can still kill these slavers,” Shepard said, letting herself grin viciously and aiming her gun at the batarian nearest to her. His eyes widened and he stepped back. If Saren or the slavers knew her, they’d have known she was bluffing. But they didn’t, and they were exactly the sort of people to expect the worst from someone like her. In this situation, she’d take it.

“You hypocrite,” Saren snarled. “That’s all you humans are. Vicious, vengeful. It’s all you’ll ever be. There’s no place in the galaxy for you. You’ll ruin everything with your recklessness.”

Ruin everything? He could just be referring to the old tension, the rapid expansion across the galaxy. Shepard would be the first to admit humanity had often been overly isolationist, too independent and unwilling to cooperate, even while they began to play a dominant role in galactic politics. But this sounded like something different. What Saren was planning?

“We protect our own,” she said. “And take back what’s ours.” 

She fired her shotgun.

The shot went wide, as she’d intended, hitting a canister next to the batarian. Gas began to stream out, noxious waves flowing across the floor. The batarians scrambled towards the entrance, clearly perfectly happy to abandon their alliance with Saren now that there was real danger. Shepard hoped Garrus had thought to call his father for backup. Saren might be the main target, and she may not want the bloody vengeance she’d feigned, but she sure as hell didn’t want the slavers to escape either. 

As the gas made its way towards the open crate, Saren threw a wild look at her, then the crate, and drew his pistol. She flung herself to the side on instinct only moments before the bullets hit. Through the haze, she saw Saren dash into the crate and grab whatever was inside. Even as she coughed, the gas filling her lungs, she felt a surge of triumph. Whatever else Saren had said, he’d shot at her, all while clearly and violently expressing his opinions on humanity. Together, that’d be enough to get him removed as a Spectre, and after that, they could hunt him down together. 

But first, she’d have to get away from this gas. She coughed again, trying to clear her lungs, but more and more of the gas was filling the room. The batarians had all evacuated, but Saren was still carrying the artifact, heading rapidly for the door. He fired off another shot, but it went wide, hitting a barrel behind her. Her relief was short lived, as it turned out that barrel was also filled with the same poisoned gas, or something so similar it didn’t matter. What the hell did the batarians have all this stored here for? And in the open? 

Time to head out herself.

“Cover me,” she said, before another hacking cough overcame her.

“Shepard?” Garrus said. “Get out of there!”

“Working on it,” she said. She felt weak, her muscles not responding. The damn poison was beginning to affect her. But the door was almost there. She’d make it.

Then she watched in horror as the door sealed in front of her, green panel turning a garish red.

*

“Shepard!” 

She looked up to the observation room where Garrus had been stationed, but it was sealed as well. No entrance except the one before her. Damn it. Damn everything. She staggered to the far corner of the room, where the gas hadn’t yet reached, taking a welcome gulp of clean air. Next time, she was making sure she brought the armor with the full breather helmet. She didn’t care how unlikely she was to need it, it only took one time to die of poisoned gas.

“Can you get me out?” she said, watching as the gas slowly approached. “Not sure how long I have.”

“Working on it,” Garrus said. “But I’m not really a security expert.”

“Do what you can,” she said. “I’ll manage. I always was great at holding my breath.”

“Not funny, Shepard,” Garrus said. 

She swallowed hard, her eyes swimming with tears from the fumes. She just needed a way to last. 

You’re a survivor, she remembered Anderson saying. It’s why we picked you. 

Like the Thresher Maw on Akuze, like the slavers on Mindoir. She just needed to survive.

She closed her eyes, taking another deep breath, then pushed out, feeling the barrier expand around her. Barriers had never been her strength, too slow, too methodical for her flashy style. And creating one dense enough to block out something as tiny as gas particles was something that, had she’d been asked yesterday, she’d have said was beyond her. But she was not going to die here. She took a deep breath, and the barrier held.

Dropping to the floor, she let her right slacken and her shotgun fall with a clatter, holding the barrier above her with her left. Breathe in, breathe out. She just needed to hold it a little longer. Again. Breathe. Time slowed to a crawl, and she could feel sweat crawling down her brow, mingling with the tears from the gas on her cheeks. Breathe. Her hand shook as she held it above her, a focus point for the mass effect field that was the only thing keeping her alive. Again.

“Shepard?” Garrus said. “I almost have it. Please tell me you’re still alive.”

“I’m fine,” Shepard said, wincing as her voice cracked and her throat burned. 

“Bullshit you are,” Garrus said. The seconds ticked by. Breathe. Her hand trembled, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t let go. Not now.

“Got it!”

The door slid open, and Shepard almost cried in relief as she stumbled towards it, barely managing to keep the barrier up as she threw herself across the threshold.

“I’m out,” she said, letting the barrier drop and watching the door close behind her. Shakily, she got to her feet, pulling off her helmet and running a hand through hair that was damp with sweat. Saren was long gone, as were the slavers, but right now, she didn’t give a crap. She was alive. She’d made it.

“Are you—” Garrus halted a few feet from her. “What a stupid question,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “I just need—” She took a deep breath. “I need to rest, that’s all. And shower.”

“You need to see a doctor,” Garrus said, taking a step closer. 

“Right,” Shepard said. That made sense. She swayed, reaching out a hand for a wall that wasn’t there, stumbling. Something grabbed her, an arm around the waist, oddly gentle.

“Maybe I’m not fine,” she said, managing a laugh as she let Garrus hold her up. “But I’m alive.”


	3. Chapter 3

Garrus was pacing outside her room. She didn’t think he’d realized she was awake yet. She should let him know, but she hesitated. She thought about what Saren had said. They made a good team. A great one, even. She swung her legs over the bed, groaning as her muscles protested the movement. No long-term harm, the doctor had said. But it sure hurt right now. She ducked behind the screen, carefully pulling on the casual Alliance uniform. Her armor had already been brought back to her apartment, and even if it had been here, she had no interest in putting it on now.

“Hey,” she said, as the door to the waiting room slid shut behind her. 

“Hey, I—” Garrus had also changed at some point, wearing civilian clothing rather than his heavy armor, though Shepard doubted it’d been his idea. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” she said, putting on her best Commander Shepard face and walking towards him. She moved a little too rapidly and winced as she felt her chest tighten. Garrus took a step towards her, reaching out, then stopped.

“The Council wants to see us,” he said. “They called while you were out cold.”

“Figures,” she said. “They make you a Spectre without me?”

“I wouldn’t let them,” he said. His mandibles twitched. “You ready for this?”

“To become the first human Spectre? Right after being poisoned? With a crazy ass turian who can’t keep his mouth shut, and saved my life?” Shepard said. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

*

The whole thing was a blur, in the end. Nihlus was clearly shocked, but he didn’t doubt the proof of their recordings from the fight, and seemed particularly concerned, as Shepard had been, at whatever other plans Saren might have. He also fully endorsed both Shepard and Garrus for full Spectre status. To Shepard’s surprise, it was the turian councilor who expressed doubts at including Garrus, implying a potential connection between Saren and Garrus. But Nihlus shut it down, with apparent full support of the C-Sec officer on the scene, Castis Vakarian, who gave Garrus an unreadable look as he delivered his report exonerating him of any connection to Saren.

Shepard noticed a brief exchange between them afterwards. Maybe she’d ask later. She thought, despite Garrus’s misgivings, that she liked Castis. She wouldn’t mind seeing more of him.

“So, you heading home?” Garrus asked, walking over to her outside the Citadel Tower. 

“I should, but I don’t think I can sleep right now. Still too keyed up.” She was in that odd place between exhaustion and elation. Tomorrow, she knew, the weight of it all would settle it in. The hunt for Saren, her new responsibilities as a Spectre. But tonight…

“How about that whiskey?” she said.

“Hmm. You know, that sounds good right now. And the doctor did say you shouldn’t be left alone.” They headed over to the taxi, with Shepard taking the driver’s seat this time while Garrus eyed her with trepidation. “For the safety of the innocent civilians, of course. What with all that poison you so carelessly shot. Maybe I should drive?”

“No, I think I will. And that shot was intentional,” she said, as the taxi took off. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“For a certain definition of worked,” he said. 

“We got the bad guys, more or less,” she said. “And saved the day. And now it’s time for a little R&R.” She flicked the autopilot on the taxi off, taking the wheel with a grin.

“Shepard, no, don’t—”

“You’re no fun,” she said, and sped away, laughing at Garrus’s groan. After a few minutes, she let the autopilot take hold again, ignoring Garrus’s theatrical sigh of relief as she settled back into the seat.

“How’d you know about Mindoir?” she said. It’d been bothering her since the fight. It clearly hadn’t been a random guess, and now that she’d seen the C-Sec report, she knew it wasn’t in there either.

“It was what made me doubt Saren,” Garrus said. “Those same slavers, we had them months ago. That must’ve been when he worked out whatever deal he had with them. They had slaves, human slaves, but Saren just let them go, let them take their those people and leave.” She could hear anger coloring his voice. “He said that sometimes, sacrifices were necessary for the greater good.”

He stopped to look at the sights of the Citadel flashing by, facing away from Shepard. She let him have a moment, watching the play of light across his skin.

“Sacrifices are necessary, but not that kind. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong, and I did nothing. So I dug into it. That’s how I found out about Mindoir,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said. “For telling me.”

“Why did you let them go? You could’ve shot him,” he said, referring to the slaver she’d intentionally missed.

“Once, I might have,” she said. “But I learned long ago that revenge doesn’t make things better. It still hurts, no matter what you do. So you just live the best you can, be the best you can be, and do whatever necessary to make sure it never happens again.”

“Killing him would have stopped him,” Garrus said.

“Stopped him, sure, but what about the other slavers? C-Sec has him now, and they might be able to get information out of him, information that’ll be essential to stopping further attacks from that group. Killing isn’t always the answer.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Garrus said. “Killing was what Saren always went for. You’re better than him.”

“Quite the compliment,” Shepard said, as the taxi halted near Garrus’s apartment. He pressed the button to open the door, then let it close behind them.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” he said. “I meant—”

“I’m just messing with you,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re better than him, too.”

“Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said. She squeezed his shoulder as he opened his mouth to protest. “I mean it.”

He let it stand, and headed to the kitchenette for the whiskey as Shepard wandered around the apartment. It was fairly spartan, mostly just practical things like a workbench and a stand for armor. On the lower shelf of a side table, there was a picture of two turian women, one older and one younger, who closely resembled Garrus. She knelt down to examine it, setting it back in place as Garrus came into the room.

“Here you are,” Garrus said, handing her a glass. She knocked it back, relishing the way it burned in a way totally unlike the chemicals from earlier. 

“We going after Saren?” Garrus asked.

We. She smiled at that. Spectres usually worked alone, but she couldn’t imagine doing this without Garrus.

“Hell yeah, we are.”

He reached out a hand to pull her up. She held tight as he made to let go.

“Was he right?” 

His eyes flicked down to her fingers, then to a point behind her.

“Right about what?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s not convincing.” 

“I, uh.” He stumbled over his words. It was kind of adorable. A word she’d never thought to associate with a six and a half foot tall turian, but there it was.

“Garrus,” she said. Saren’s phrasing hadn’t been an accident, she was sure of it, and he hadn’t meant it metaphorically. “Was he right?”

She let her grip slacken, but he didn’t let go.

“You almost died,” he said.

“But I didn’t,” she said, cracking a smile. “So why not celebrate?”

“I have no idea, I mean. Do you…”

“Know what I’m doing? Not a clue. But I’m told that’s why the extranet was invented.”

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Not in the least.” A moment’s hesitation, then she reached up, placing her other hand on his cheek. It was warm, rough. She traced a finger over the blue marking there, and heard his breath stutter.

“This is crazy,” he said, but didn’t pull away.

“What do we do that isn’t?”

He laughed, then leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and breathed.

*

“Spectres are trouble.” The pilot was speaking to a lieutenant next to him, Alenko, Anderson had said. Shepard was fairly confident they had no idea she was there. “I don’t like having them on board. Call me paranoid.”

“You’re paranoid,” Alenko said.

“And it’d be one thing if it was just the human Spectre, Shepard,” the pilot continued. “She’s Alliance, and Dr. Chakwas said she survived with Captain Anderson before. But does the turian need to be here too? I thought Spectres worked alone.”

“Captain says they’re a pair,” Alenko replied.

“Yeah, they’re a pair alright,” the pilot said, snorting. Shepard sighed. They should probably try and be subtler.

“And they’ve been working to catch this guy for a long time,” Alenko said. 

“Two Spectres teaming up to catch a third one, just what I wanted for my first time piloting this beauty,” the pilot said. “How’d we get assigned this anyway?”

“It was a favor,” Shepard said, trying not to laugh as the pilot almost jumped out of his skin. “From Captain Anderson. We needed to get to Eden Prime quickly to have any change of catching Saren.”

“I, uh,” the pilot said. “Commander Shepard.”

“Shepard?” She turned to see Garrus had come up behind her, giving the befuddled pilot a bemused look before continuing. “We’re almost there. Captain wants to talk.”

Despite her earlier thought about subtlety, she couldn’t quite stop herself from reaching out to clasp his hand.

“We’ll get him this time,” she said. 

“Damn right, we will,” he said. “We’re Shepard and Vakarian. Greatest Spectres this galaxy has ever seen.”

Shepard smiled. 

“I don’t know about that,” she said. “But we make a good team.”


End file.
